The Cabin
by Miss-Murdered
Summary: Trowa's debut novel became a best-seller and now he is failing at writing a follow up. In order to find peace and quiet to write, he rents a secluded cabin near a small town to find inspiration. Yet writing becomes hard when he keeps hearing howls from the woods in the middle of the night and even harder when he meets a charming diner owner named Duo…


Disclaimers: Don't own and never will

Pairings/Warnings: 2x3, m/m sexual relationship, supernatural elements, swearing

A/N: Inspired by the song A Tale of Outer Suburbia by Hands like Houses

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 **Chapter One**

Trowa hummed along to the song on the radio, his fingers occasionally drumming on the steering wheel, his mood rapidly improving as it was clear he was near the end of his journey. It had been a long drive and a red eye flight. His mood had not been the greatest as Trowa had stupidly decided to try and complete his journey in one day, determined to just get to the cabin as soon as he could and start the much needed task of relaxation. Now he could see the final part of his journey and a small smile crossed his face.

The road towards the cabin was overgrown and there was dense woodland at either side so Trowa drove cautiously so as not to cause damage to his rental car and be forced to make a payment towards it. It had been a dumb as fuck thing to do - to try and travel this distance in one day without a break but now his decision had been proven right. There even still some light when he arrived – a silvery winter sun - and Trowa took that as a good omen for his little vacation.

As he approached, Trowa could see the roof of the cabin and it was just as Heero said. It did not look much from the outside. In fact, it looked very much like your average wooden construction but Trowa knew otherwise. He hadn't come to the cabin to "rough it" or be "one with nature". Really, he was coming to cabin to escape. But he wanted to escape in comfort. And it would be very comfortable.

It wasn't Heero's cabin. Heero just "consulted" with a very a rich and very reclusive billionaire who went by the name of Quatre Raberba Winner. This Winner guy was a well-known tech entrepreneur and inventor who happened to own random properties dotted across the globe. When Trowa had complained about how he needed an escape to Heero over a craft beer, Heero had said he might know someone who could help. A few emails later, and some more crafts beers, Trowa was paying a meagre deposit to stay at a cabin in the heart of a forest. It was an unexpected outcome but one that Trowa was pleased with – this Winner guy didn't care about being paid the full rental value of his property as he was not using it for the month and Trowa was going to stay somewhere out of the way but fitted with all the modern conveniences. It was perfect.

And as he parked outside and saw the lake it was situated next to, Trowa was pretty sure it was as near as perfect as he could get. He got out of the car and stretched, his body feeling cramped from the confines of the rental car. It was cold and Trowa was ill-prepared for that in his grey v-neck t-shirt but instead of getting more layers, he only grabbed for his belongings in the back seat and walked towards his home for the next month.

He fumbled for his phone in the back pocket of his worn jeans, his fingers already cold and useless and he pulled up the screenshot of the information of how to get in as he stood on the porch. There was a keypad and a number combination and Trowa input the numbers quickly before he froze his balls off. With the combination put in correctly, the door made a small noise and he pushed it open to feel that the cabin was no warmer than outside.

Closing the door behind him and dropping his bag of belongings onto the shining wood, he went in search of his next instruction. To put on the power and heat. The cabin was made up of an open plan dining, kitchen and living area with a bedroom with only a partition wall and no door. The only room that was clearly separate was the bathroom, located off the bedroom, but Trowa didn't care for the full tour. The cabin was cold, dark and musty smelling despite its modern and sleek appearance. It had not been used in some time and Trowa shivered as he followed the instructions on his phone and found the cupboard he needed so that he could power and warm the cabin.

There was a screen and a keypad in the cupboard and Trowa input the relevant code which brought to life the touch screen inside. With that activated, Trowa quickly turned on the lights and the underfloor heating, the hot water tank and the power supply to all the kitchen appliances. For a second, he put his hands on his hips and surveyed the cabin, enjoying his small victory. Yet he knew it was a ridiculous thing to be proud of. After all, he had only input a few codes and flicked a few switches.

Now that the cabin was habitable, Trowa checked out the bedroom area with the large king bed, a red and white Nordic style throw over it and cushions scattered on it. A large window showed the forest around the cabin and Trowa imagined he would be woken by natural sunlight rather than his sister, Cathy's clattering around or the sound of traffic.

The bathroom was en-suite and Trowa was impressed as he stepped into it. It felt like another world, the shower making up most of the space and the walls were sleek grey slate but what made it so otherworldly was the fact there was no ceiling. There was only window that looked up to the world, the canopy of trees and the sky peeking through. It would be like showering outside and Trowa liked the idea.

After his brief exploration, Trowa returned to the main room of the cabin, the heat beginning to radiate around him. Realising he had been most rude, he returned to the door and removed his work boots and then he felt the warmth from the underfloor heating underneath his socked feet. Yes, he liked this, he thought. He would have to talk to Heero when he got home and get more information about this Quatre. Maybe he should spend some of his own money and create his own perfect hideaway. And if he did, it would definitely need underfloor heating, he decided.

He grabbed his bag and got out his laptop and the notebooks, leaving them on the table near the fireplace and then he deposited his clothes on the floor in the bedroom in an unceremonious pile so that he could find a warm sweater. He didn't need to be tidy, it was just him so he decided not to care. Instead, he would live like as much of a slob as he could. Warmer, Trowa went to the kitchen and figured out where the glasses were, pouring some ice cold water from the fancy hot/cold tap and then settled himself down at the table.

Tomorrow he would go find the local market and buy some food but for tonight, he would live off the junk he had eaten on the journey and the chips and candy bars that he'd left in the damn car. He remembered that as he turned on the laptop and then that distraction left him looking at the fireplace. It didn't matter if he started writing right away¸ he could set a fire and procure the food from the car first.

The firewood was already there, set in a smart pile beside the fire so Trowa quickly achieved that task. Once done, Trowa looked at the flames before he went back to his rental car, reluctant to shove his warm feet back into his boots. He did though, despite his reluctance and went back into the cold.

It was now dark and Trowa hadn't realised quite how dark it would be. Surrounded by trees and away from the glaring lights of the city, the only sources of the light were from the cabin itself and the starlight above. He stopped as he got to the car and looked up, his breath spilling from his lips in soft trails of white as he saw constellations he remembered seeing once, as a kid, in some memory that was almost a dream. It was beautiful and despite the shiver, he wanted to stay outside. Maybe he should've brought a telescope or something so he could scan the night sky unimpeded but then he hadn't really thought about things like that. He had only thought about what he needed to do at the cabin. Which was goddamn write.

His wistful staring at the sky was cut short when he heard a snapping of twig, a rustle of movement and low growl like noise that did not sound exactly friendly. He was a city boy and a bit naïve to what could be hiding in the forest surrounding him but he wasn't stupid enough to stick around outside for anything to find him. Quickly, he got the bag of junk food from the car and hurried back into the cabin slamming the door behind him. He swore he heard a howl as he closed the door but then figured it was his imagination. As it all probably was.

Food and fire sorted and convincing himself that the outdoor noises were just that – noises – Trowa sat to his laptop and opened the blank Word Document as he always seemed to do. He watched the little cursor blink, flashing at him, winking in a mocking fashion that Trowa had become used to it. It was mocking him as he was sucking at writing the much needed follow up novel.

Trowa didn't really intend to become a best-selling novelist. Not really. And as he grabbed for his notebook, he thought of how easy it had been to write Flicker Fade and how not one single word had really felt like a chore. Not like the second novel. Not like what he was trying to write now.

When the idea for Flicker Fade came, Trowa had been possessed. He had needed to write the damn well thing as he hadn't been able to sleep, to rest or think about anything else until it was all on the page. He wrote on his old wonky laptop, slow at loading but kept on standby all the time so that he could type in the brief moments between his two jobs and any social occasion that was unavoidable.

It had been a summer where all his focus had been on getting the thing finished – he had needed to tell the story of his ex-lovers meeting at a mutual friend's funeral. He had needed to spew out the angst, the desire and the happy resolution after it all. And Trowa had despite the many distractions.

Despite the exhaustion, despite the two jobs and despite the other responsibilities, Trowa had managed to write Flicker Fade. Yet now he couldn't write a damn thing.

He hadn't expected Flicker Fade to sell. To be successful. To have potential movie rights bought. It was all very exciting and Trowa had been wrapped up in, marvelling at his own cleverness and the genius of his turn of phrase. He was a quiet guy, always observing and in that success, he was able to show there was more to him than being the quiet guy.

It was all because Cathy told him to try and publish it that he had. That she had seen his light on at all hours of the night and seen the way he had written parts of it on napkins when he had just needed to write it. And now when he had the time to write, the luxury of not having to damn well work and find those scant few hours where he could type, he was unable to do it.

He was fucked. He didn't dare tell his agent. Chang Wufei was a shrewd man who emailed him bi-weekly to ensure that Trowa was making progress on his follow up novel. Trowa calmly managed to bat those emails back claiming he was researching or that all his work was in notebooks at the moment and he would be collating soon for a first draft. The bullshit was working so far but Trowa knew it would not work for long. As he had a deadline. March. So here he was in January with nothing and that was why he was taking drastic measures.

Trowa opened his snacks, salty pretzels and stared at the blinking cursor, his mind blank. He knew what he had wanted to write but that clearly wasn't working. Maybe he needed to change his idea entirely… maybe…

Or maybe he just needed some goddamn sleep and to think about it in the morning. With a grunt, he closed the laptop without a little more force than necessary and plonked his weary body on bed, his eyes glancing out of the window towards the darkened forest. Tomorrow he would find inspiration, he decided, as he shimmied out of his jeans to sleep in boxers and his sweater underneath the thick blankets. Tomorrow he would write his novel.

And with tomorrow agreed as the beginning of finishing the fucking thing with his own brain, Trowa closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. Yet as he fell asleep, he wondered if he heard scratches against the walls or a howl in the wind but decided it was just his tired brain. It was nothing.


End file.
